


CR Drabbles

by rainier_day



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Drabble Collection, Gen, M/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2020-07-09 20:45:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 4,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19894087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainier_day/pseuds/rainier_day
Summary: CR drabbles from wherever





	1. MT House

**Author's Note:**

> Drabble collection from tumblr and the discord server etc.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for ep62

Molly tilts his head up to inspect the mansion with awe. Laughing, he lets Jester take him around, showing off her murals to him, pointing out all the hidden dicks she painted and swearing him to secrecy.

Caduceus invites him for tea up in the tree tower and gives him a little alcove for all of the symbols he’s collected.

Yasha shows him the mural in her room even though he’s already seen it and shows him the one spot by her bed that he never noticed before. She added it herself, she tells him. Just a little purple four-leaf clover to remind her of him.

Fjord takes him around town, bringing him to a burly blacksmith with the gentle voice and then to the moorbounders. They speak quietly in the stables and after a lot of teasing, he finally gets an apology from Fjord for eating his sword and a “welcome home, Mols”.

Nott staunchly warns him to stay away from her and Yeza’s room at night and shows him the rhino potions she’s been keeping hidden just in case while Beau is aggressively hospitable, pushing plate after plate of food on front of him. She’s smiling more now but he still sees guilt in her eyes even as she jokes about how he looks like he just crawled out of his own grave.

And Caleb. Caleb quietly lets him into the library and lab, puttering about, apologizing for the mess and how uninterested he must be in all this. But then he perks up and says, “We will have to rename the house.”

“Why?”

Lips quirking up into a smile, Caleb merely says, “Because you are back, Mister Mollymauk. It’s not so empty anymore.”


	2. MT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some late night post-rez angst for no other reason than to write it

“Mollymauk, what’s wrong?”

Molly shakes his head. “It’s nothing.”

He’s been reunited with his family in a beautiful house away from the war front. He’s _alive_ again. How could anything possibly be wrong?

And yet, here he is, feeling out of place and paper thin.

Caleb frowns and stands in front of him, concerned. “Nein, there is clearly something. Please tell me, otherwise I won’t know what to do.”

“It’s not really anything you can do something about, Caleb. I’m just being stupid. You don’t have to indulge me,” Molly mutters, doubled over on his chair and hiding his face.

“I’m not. Doing this to indulge you, I mean. You have a genuine concern and I want to hear it. You are a great many things, Mollymauk Tealeaf, but you are not stupid.”

Scrubbing his face, he shakes his head. “…I just…I don’t know how to _be_.”

“How to be what?” he’s asked quietly, carefully.

He snaps his head up. “Anything! Caleb, I don’t know how to be your–your _whatever_ when you loved your ex longer than I’ve been me! I don’t know how to be Yasha’s best friend when she’s known me dead longer than alive! I don’t know how to be _anything_.”

Gentle hands reach down and cup his face, tilting his head up until he’s forced to look into those endlessly blue eyes. “Mollymauk, you don’t have to be anything in particular for people to love you. You just have to be here and be _you_ and that is more than enough. For me, at least.”

“But I’m empty,” he whispers. “I’m _nothing_.”

Shaking his head, Caleb holds him close. “Nein, I have spent a great many years trying to be nothing and you are far from it, I promise you. And as for time, well, it will pass and if you allow me, I will love you for as long as time will permit, until nothing else in either of our lives is even remotely comparable.”

Sniffling a little, Molly huffs. “Be careful, Mister Caleb. That sounded an awful lot like a proposal. And aren’t you learning time magic?”

Caleb spares him a small, private smile. “Ja, I am. Maybe soon I will not need time’s permission to love you for always. So? What do you say to forever with me, Mister Mollymauk?”

“…you can’t want to spend eternity with me,” he insists. He wants to get up–wants to walk away and find somewhere to hide.

Instead, he watches the wizard kneel in front of him and brushes the hair from his face. “But I do.”

Leaning into the touch, Molly can’t help but ask, “ _Why_?”

“Because you are here and you are you, and that has always been more than enough for me.”

Finally, he does get up, shaking his head. “I can’t. Not when it feels like you’re picking me out of the trash. I–I can’t, Caleb. I love you but I _can’t_. Not yet. I’m sorry.”

And he walks away.


	3. Calianna's Gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for ep 71

Waiting until it's sufficiently late, Caleb sits up and looks out the window of the Lavish Chateau. The moon is high up in the clear night sky and the quiet din of the nocturnal happenings on the streets of Nicodranas floats filters in through the window. 

He spends a minute scratching Frumpkin behind the ear and building himself up to get out of bed. Eventually, he knows he can't put it off anymore—not for any approaching deadline but that his aching heart can't handle it any longer. Wrapping Frumpkin around his neck, Caleb slips out of bed and pads over to the coat hooks behind the door. With Nott spending the night with her family, he has the spacious room to himself and it feels far too luxurious, too peaceful for him. Digging through his coat pockets, he pulls out a copper wire and whispers into the hallway, "Beauregard…"

A reply comes in the form of a disgruntled groan. "Yeah, I got you."

Caleb waits a couple of seconds more before shuffling out into the hallway. Down the corridor, a door cracks open and Beau peers out, her eyes narrowed and bleary with sleep. Walking over to meet her, she thrusts into his hand the very thing he could not bear to look at earlier. "Thank you."

She blinks and squints, trying her best to look at him without opening her eyes fully. "S'fine. 'nything else?"

"Nein, I will return this to you in the morning," Caleb whispers, holding the object against his chest. 

"You don't have to," Beau mumbles back. "You can keep it, y'know? No one will know except us. It's okay to hold on to it."

He considers it for a moment but shakes his head, knowing it would simply serve to send him into a deep spiral of melancholy and regret, and colour his thoughts with splashes of lavender and crimson. " _I can't_."

Beau eyes him for a moment then shrugs. "Sure. I get it. It's up to you, man."

"Thank you," Caleb says again. "I will leave you to your sleep. Gute Nacht."

She nods and steps back into Jester's room. "Yeah, g'night."

The door closes behind him as he retreats back down the hall to his room, fist still clenched tight. Suddenly grateful to have a room to himself, he locks the door and pads across the floor to the balcony. 

Caleb doesn't dare loosen his grip until he's standing outside and looking down at the moonlit streets of Nicodranas through the ornate railings. Uncurling his fingers around the little metal trinket in his hand attached to a neatly written gift tag, he feels the same ache in his heart as he did when they first opened the package.

_To Mollymock_

His lips curl up a little despite himself. It's a good guess at something so few know. He used to think it was spelt after the cursed birds so many poets reference until he was corrected. "But I suppose in a way, you have become our albatross, haven't you...Mollymauk?"

The name lingers on his tongue and brings forth images of a swirling rainbow and a fleeting kiss that chased harrowing flames away. 

Running a finger over the trinket lightly, Caleb looks down into the city and the distant sea in the horizon. "You would like it here and I think the city would like you too. I want to bring you back… I want to find a way but I wonder if it would be better to wait for these problems to resolve themselves first?" A sigh. "You would disagree. But you are not here and I am just talking to myself like a madman."

He brings the token to his lips and sighs that name once more. "Maybe it's selfish, but how can we face you after we have failed you so badly? We failed you in the worst way possible. We lost the very person you died trying to save."

A frown finds its way to his lips and he closes his hand back around the trinket. "What right do I have to say your name? To claim your belongings?" The image of the periapt springs to mind, so bright against lavender skin and now sitting atop iridescent green armour. "Nein, I have no right to any part of you—not as things stand."

Even so, he doesn't let go of it.

Getting up, Caleb shakes his head and retreats back inside. "We will find Yasha and save her if possible and I will bring you back to a better world," he promises. "Only then will I deserve to look at you again."

He sets the trinket down on the nightstand with care and gets back into bed. Sparing the metal token one last glance, he mumbles, "Gute Nacht. I hope you are having sweet dreams." 

As he closes his eyes, his memory brings forth Calianna's letter and the final passage in perfect clarity. 

_P.S. I hope things work out with Mister Molly. I saw the way he looked at you._

_It was the same way you looked at him._


	4. C&C

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A C&C continuation of [this](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19112500#work_endnotes) after a chat in the discord server a while back

“Gilligan, roll investigation to see if you can work the coffee machine.”

Nott frowns. “Investigation!? But I’m so _dumb_!”

He nods. “And you are the unpaid intern. You are very expendable. Be careful.”

Yasha raises a hand. “Can I try to give her a hand?”

Caleb shakes his head. “Nein, Janet, you are still in combat with the printer.”

She gapes. “ _Still_? It’s been a whole day! Can I try to pull the plug?”

He shrugs. “Sure. Roll strength.”

Glancing up, Yasha asks, “With advantage? I’m proficient with office equipment.”

Thinking about it for a moment, Caleb eventually agrees, “I will allow it.”

“Thank you. That was a three on my first roll,” she mutters. “Okay, okay, let’s see. Sorry, math. Twenty-two with my proficiency bonus?”

“Wow, 22, okay. How do you want to do this?”

Yasha smiles. “I’ll yank the cord out and kick the printer across the room. And I’ll go send a PDF copy of the report instead.”

Caleb arches a brow. “Ja, you do just that and the printer goes flying with a crash. Gilligan, what did you roll?”

“I got a 15. Rolled a 17 minus two,” Nott tells them.

A nod. “It takes a while, but you figure it out before anyone gets upset.” Then turning to Beau, he says, “Tracy, the phone is ringing. What do you want to do?”

Beau scowls and shouts, “Nothing? I hate talking to people on the phone!”

“Can I take the call for Tracy?” Fjord offers.

“Sorry, you are in a conference call, Oskar, and it’s running 20 minutes late because of technical issues,” Caleb replies, carefully keeping his voice even. “You can roll a stealth check to see if you can sneak out.”

A sigh. “A four. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Can I try to bust him out?” Molly offers, shifting excitedly in his seat.

He nods. “Okay. Roll performance, Esma.”

“...never mind. I’m not doing anything for anyone. Nat one.”

Caleb stifles a smile. “You burst in and not only fail to get Oskar out, but the office manager ropes you into helping them read the wifi password out loud to them while they try to connect their laptop to the internet.”

Molly furrows his brows. “Why? But it’s a laptop! It’s portable! Just bring it _to_ the password!”

Jester frowns, looking around at the map of their office for possible moves. “Um, Fiona’s going to run to help Tracy!”

“Make a dex save for me.”

“Why!?” she shrieks.

Caleb shrugs. “When Janet unplugged the printer, the tape holding the cord to the ground came loose and no one noticed it. If you fall, it will become a Health and Safety case, which will hold everything up for at least two hours.” Looking at the messes scattered across the map, he smiles. “Come on, Mighty Nein to Five, this is your last hurdle. This is the final quarter.”


	5. Kindernein

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kindernein with [art](https://twitter.com/elany27/status/1168595164153229312) by the amazing [@elany27](https://twitter.com/elany27/)!!
> 
> Leylas is the tired CEO adoptive mother of Smollymauk and Essek Tinylss because I can't spell his name properly for the life of me

There’s a knock on the door and Leylas Kryn heaves the sigh of a long weary mother. “Boys, please go see who it is? Mummy needs to close this deal and then we can decide where to go for dinner.”

Molly immediately lets go of her arm and starts running. “I’ll get it!”

Following suit, Essek goes sprinting after his little brother. “No you don’t!”

“Whatever, Essik Theylas, you already stole _all my friends_!”

“It’s Essek Thelyss! I didn’t steal them! You were in bed sick! Get back here, heir apparent Mollymauk Lucien Kryn-Tealeaf!”

“ _Don’t call me that_!”

As the two bicker down the hall, it occurs to Leylas to go see who their guest is in case they mean the boys harm—or Luxon forbid, sell them sweets. There’s a moment of silence after the door creeks and it has her walking a little faster.

Rounding the corner, she sees the door open and a little boy somewhere between Molly and Essek’s age standing there. He has brownish-red hair and bright blue eyes and has a box of crayons clutched tightly in his hands. “Mollymauk, are you feeling better? Essek said you were feeling, um, not well. He got you the colour book, ja? I thought we could maybe colour together?—if you are well, I mean.”

Leylas quickly decides that little Caleb Widogast is her favourite child on the block. Molly squeals happily at his presence and quickly pulls him inside and up to his room to show him the colouring book Essek bought him (with her money, but it was his idea and she thought it was sweet). 

Within minutes, there’s a lull in the house as the three disappear to play. She smiles and takes her call off hold. “Hello? Yes, sorry about that, Dwendal...like I was saying, there’s no room for negotiation.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After this, the Kindernein find a really important piece of jewellery for Leylas and she buys them a playhouse. It's up in a tree and Cad and Jester dig a big mud hole at the base and call it a spa.


	6. Rainy Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soft rainy drabble I wrote this morning for a soft rainy day

It’s pouring out and under the safety and comfort of a large, colourful circus tent, Molly and Yasha sit side-by-side, their knees touching, by the entry flap. The flap’s been propped up with a stick and the two of them are sitting on a dingy woven rug on top of planks of wood. 

“Do you have to go?” Molly asks, his eyes never leaving the sky.

Yasha spares him a glance and then looks around. Outside, the other tents, normally bright and dazzling, are now muted amidst the rain. In the sky, grey clouds smother the skies, indistinct save the occasional dash of stormy dark grey. There’s no sound save the rain. No wind. No thunder. “No, I don’t think so.”

Molly smiles then, soft and unguarded. His tail curls around her waist as he tucks in against her, ever mindful of his horns. “Good. We can enjoy ourselves a little longer then.”

Arm wrapping around the tiefling, she returns the smile and turns her attention back to the rainy skies. “Yeah, looks like we can.”


	7. Grimace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because Liam always makes sad faces and it makes me want to write

_Before your time._

Caleb can’t help but grimace as the words leave his mouth. “Ah, I meant,” ducking his head ruefully, he immediately tries to correct himself, “before you joined us, Caduceus.”

With his ever-present serene smile, Caduceus nods. “It sounds like you had a lot of fun before. That’s nice.”

He wonders if that’s meant to be an out for him, or simply platitude, or maybe the firbolg isn’t thinking about the circumstances in which they met at all. “Ja, it was,” he says, the words stilted. 

There are more things to say—more words.

It’s fun thinking back now. All the drama and colourful hijinks that came with so little consequence. He misses the levity of the past and—

_Ja ja?_

_Oh, that’s cute_.

The words don’t come and he grimaces again and turns away.

Snapping Frumpkin into his arms, he strokes the cat and thinks about when Yasha was still with them with her gentle smile and quiet humour. 

They’ll get her back. Hopefully. It feels like a betrayal of everything they are and everything that got them to this point to have lost her the way they did.

Not once but _twice_ now.

Caleb thinks of a blur of lavender and crimson, chaotic and warm, now degraded by time and memories of blood and dirt. How disappointed he would be if he could be here with them now.

But he left them on that cold, desolate morning.

_Before your time._

He thinks the words and can’t help but flinch at the weight of them. Holding his cat closer, he ignores the familiar heaviness he’s come to know as grief and returns to the group.


	8. Ghost

He watches the figure smile and twirl for some invisible crowd. The colourful coat catches the light filtering in through the leaves of the tree. There's a laugh and the figure reaches up to watch the light play off the rings adorning his fingers—playful and carefree.

The sight makes him smile too and he sits and watches, content to simply observe.

Today is a good day.

\--

The figure doesn't move, sitting under the tree, unmoving, unfocused. The coat is gone and he looks lost as he stares up at the sky, his eyes wide and fearful. Those long locks of deep purple are shorn and horns bare.

Empty.

All he can do is watch and wait for the hours to pass—wait for this empty vessel to be filled with life once more.

Today is a...bad day.

\--

His heart is torn asunder yet again. Over and over again he watches this scene play out. No matter how he shouts, it never changes. 

Nothing ever changes.

Not the blood.

Not the snow.

Not the crimson eyes and their fading light.

He tries reaching out, tries crawling to the body, tries _everything_. But nothing ever changes.

Today was the start of the end.

\--

She watches him, patient and protective as he sits by the tree grown from an old friend by a newer one. He doesn't move. His form doesn't change. It's been weeks and here he sits, enraptured—spirited away by a spell of his own doing.

They try to wake him from his arcane trance but those brilliant blue eyes are distant and their words fall on deaf ears. His attention is strictly on some invisible scene, one that none of them are privy to.

And whatever he sees makes him smile, makes him frown, makes him cry out with heartbreak.

He should've known better than to try playing with a magic he wasn’t familiar with. _They_ should've known better than to let him try. She so desperately wants someone to blame but she knows better.

She knows they couldn't have said no.

_I want to see him. Maybe I can bring him back. **Please**. Let me try._

She knows _she_ couldn't have said no.

Not to that.

She wonders if he made it. If he's there. If they're together now even if it's only in his mind.

The others have gone to get help, but not her. No, she'll stay and watch and protect.

He is _her_ boy after all.

She watches his lips curl up softly, warm and fond.

Today is a good day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be a Halloween thing but it ended up too melancholic and not scary


	9. Funny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: episode 26 (i.e. how many ways can I be sad about Molly)

Caleb Widogast doesn’t consider himself a funny person. At best he’s wry at worst he’s awkward. But sometimes, when he thinks no one’s paying attention, he’ll mutter something under his breath. 

Dry.

That’s what everyone used to call it.

Dry and sharp humour.

He used to be bolder with his comments, making statements that would have his father chuckling and his mother shaking her head even as she smiles. Even Astrid and Eodwulf used to snicker with him in class, when they were first starting out. 

And then duties and responsibilities to the Empire kicked in. 

And then he broke.

He hasn’t felt funny in a long time.

So imagine his surprise when this ridiculous tiefling, loud in every sense of the word, throws his head back and laughs at a mutter no one should’ve heard. “Did you just tell a joke?”

Wide-eyed and blinking, horrified to be singled out like that, Caleb shakes his head. “No.”

Molly tilts his head a little and sighs. “Shame. It was a very good one.”

He doesn’t know what to do with that. He’s not a funny person. He sometimes feels like the butt of some cosmic joke but he’s given up on being funny a long time ago.

Still, Molly leaves him with a smile and it makes him want to try again. So he starts small. Little comments here and there, muttered to Nott or to Beau to test the waters (but not Molly because that mistake would be irreversible and he can’t handle that just yet).

The world doesn’t end and he’s still standing, feeling a little lighter for making his friends snort with laughter. On bold days, he’ll say something he’s proud of. Something that gets the others laughing and Mollymauk would smile at him like he ended the war with his silly little words.

So maybe he gets a little bolder still. He can’t pull off the same type of jokes Nott tells to get their enemy to collapse with laughter. The thought of being at the receiving end of exasperated mutters and “oh no” is enough to send a chill of dread down his spine. But sometimes, he speaks his words instead of muttering them and earns himself a bark of laughter. It’s sharp and loud but soft and warm just like its owner, and if Caleb carries that moment with him for the rest of the day, that’s nobody’s business but his.

But the world has a way of turning him into the butt of a joke so is it any wonder it silenced the laughter and snuffed out the smile that made him feel a little brighter—a little more whole than he really is.

“You should not have killed my cat.”

No one laughs.

Well, that’s fine. That’s fitting. Caleb never considered himself a funny person anyway.

Molly did.

But Molly isn’t around anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Secret ending:
> 
> When Molly comes back to them, he doesn’t laugh very much at first. He watches them with wide eyes, uncomprehending at their growth. The more they try to catch him up the worse the look becomes—tales of piracy, of espionage, of waging wars against the very _gods_.
> 
> The poor tiefling looks terrified and so _small_ without his coat.
> 
> And how can anyone blame him?
> 
> Caleb doesn’t know what he says. Even with his perfect mind, he has trouble recalling. It’s muttered under his breath, a mere passing comment to ease the pressure for himself but he hears a quiet snort. Turning, he sees Molly’s shoulders shaking with laughter, the tension bleeding out of him. Crimson eyes crinkle at the corner as he tilts his head fondly. “I see you’re still the funniest one here. At least that much hasn’t changed.”
> 
> Smiling despite himself, he shakes his head because Caleb Widogast doesn’t consider himself a funny person.
> 
> But that’s alright, he supposes.
> 
> Because Mollymauk does.


	10. MT Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just think about this a lot sometimes

Caleb often dreams of fire and ashes. The heat fills his lungs and the ashes clog his throat. It happens so frequently it’s like greeting an old friend in the dead of the night. The ever present guilt that churns after like sand stirred by the tide has also become a source of comfort.

A reminder that he hasn’t been forgiven and never will be.

But then sometimes, the dream’s interrupted by another. A sharp sting and a soft kiss that lights a different fire inside him. He chases the warmth and never catches up, always one step behind, always safely in the distance as the lavender is drenched in red. The guilt that follows is the same but rather than comfort, it brings forth a longing he can’t quench.

M.T. Home.

That’s what Caleb wanted to call this house—it’s what he _still_ calls it even if no one else will. 

When he pitched the idea, a brief uncomfortable look came over the group. No one questioned it though. He almost wishes someone had. At least then he could blurt out why it mattered to him—that it wasn’t simply to torment himself with a constant reminder of the colourful soul they lost.

The Mighty Nein will do a lot to avoid looking back. They’d run straight into the maws of danger if it meant running away from the creeping past. And he’s no better, but he’s had enough practice to recognize it for what it is.

They all carry Mollymauk with them in different ways. Caleb can see it in Fjord’s blade and in Jester’s tears. Nott brings him along when she scratches her itches—but never happy people, and Beau learns to live again through his death. Much like him, Yasha keeps the tiefling close in her guilt and grief while Caduceus comes to know Molly by observing the emptiness he left behind.

But that’s not Mollymauk.

Mollymauk was life and living and filling it up with joy.

And what greater joy than to have a house? A _home_? Somewhere safe for friends and family. Somewhere to weather the storm no matter how torrential. Somewhere full of joy and warmth—never empty save its name.

Beau may keep Molly close to her in spirit, but Caleb wants to create and spread in his name. He wants to keep Mollymauk close to them in the way he remembers the tiefling, a reminder that there’s a place that will welcome them without judgement. A place that will chase dreams of fire away. A place to reflect on love lost before it was ever realized.

The others may call it the Xhorhaus.

But until that colourful soul returns to them…

_Finally returning to Rosohna after weeks of travel, he steps into their house and looks around. It feels warm and welcoming despite being in a city of perpetual night. Caleb smiles and whispers to himself, “We are home, Mollymauk.”_

He’ll call it the M.T. Home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My hc is that Caleb subconsciously fell for Molly when they were in the Gnoll hole. Like, this dumbass tiefling without a past managed to quiet his with nothing but a forehead kiss. How magical is that? The last time someone cleared his head they went mad from it, but *this* idiot is soft and gentle and he just smiles like it was nothing and goes and paints his dick with mashed eggs and throws himself out a hospital window.


	11. Cards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spoilers for episode 90

He glances up at her and smiles to himself as he adds another line—an extra detail to the sketch. Her braids this time. Maybe he’ll get some blue and highlight the beads in her hair. The words ‘The Charm’ are already carefully written at the bottom. He even checked the spelling with Desmond just to be sure.

Flipping the card upside down, Molly hums thoughtfully at the blank half. That was the tricky bit.

His other cards were easy to figure out but this one…

“Mollymauk, are you ready to go? Gustav wants us to get to the tavern before the people there get too drunk,” comes Yasha’s quiet voice from the flap of the tent.

Perking up, he carefully sets the card down to dry next to the others he’d been working on, all only half finished.

_The Ringmaster._

_The Clown._

_The Fire Fairy._

_The Breaker._

_The Knot._

_The Singer._

_The Devil Toad._

He tucks away his current deck and stows it away in his pouch and stands. “I’ll be right there, dear.”

Grabbing his coat, he rushes out of his tent and happily wraps his tail around Yasha’s waist and links his arm with hers. She smiles back at him and kisses him on the horn. “Were you working on your cards?”

“I got stuck but I’m sure I’ll have time to figure it out later,” Molly says, returning the smile. “Now, shall we see what kind of audience we have to work with in this little town?”

\--

Much later and far too late, Jester will find cards that are half-finished and merely sketches though it’s clear what— _who_ they represent.

_The Trickster._

_The Brash._

_The Drowned._

_The Mask._

_The Flickering Flame._

And she finds one with sketches on either side though the ink is worn and the artist has clearly given up on it…

_The Empty/The Fulfilled._

Tears sting at her eyes involuntarily as she studies these closely. Taking in a deep breath, she wipes the tears away with her sleeve. She’ll have to come up with a colour scheme to paint these with, Jester decides as she carefully tucks them back into the pouch.

Molly will want to finish these when he gets back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are y'all as devastated by the reveal as I was?
> 
> Cards:  
> The Charm/The Shackled  
> The Trickster/The Hidden  
> The Brash/The Balance  
> The Drowned/The Captain  
> The Mask/The Accepted  
> The Flickering Flame/The Brilliant Bright  
> The Empty/The Fulfilled


End file.
